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Wow
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


 

Wow

 

What joy flows deep within my heart?

What love has touched my soul?

In Christ God’s Son I’ve played my part

And scored the winning goal

 

So far above the highest crest

Above the clouds on high

From all life’s storms eternal rest

My hopes in Jesus lie

 

My hope my faith with all my trust

My gratitude and praise

When all around me turns to dust

With Christ I’ll spend my days

 

Eternity with Christ as friend

With God upon His throne

Knowing my life will see no end

Because of grace He’s shown

 

I can’t keep still, bursting with zest

Power flows through my veins

My heart beats loud inside my chest

Wherein my Saviour reigns

 

Because God’s Flame burns deep inside

Now planted in The Vine

I’m safe and sound in Jesus’ bride

And all His love is mine

 

O that the world could hear me sing

Could see Salvation’s real

She’d rise like me on eagle’s wing

She’d shout the things I feel

 

But who may see or understand?

Who will possibly say?

What life is like in Jesus’ hand?

When blessed as me today.....


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Submitted: Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Last Updated: Saturday, July 28, 2018

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.


Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


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